


Outfoxed

by fenrislorsrai



Series: Holloways [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley loves animals, Dogs, Gen, Horses, Hunters & Hunting, Regency Romance, The Arrangement (Good Omens), no animals are harmed in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenrislorsrai/pseuds/fenrislorsrai
Summary: Crowley is supposed to be covering for Aziraphale. H actually causes chaos for a foxhunt and pets some dogs while trying to lookcoolandromantic. His assignment sees right through that and has a counterproposal.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Holloways [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668580
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #13 "Luck"





	Outfoxed

**Author's Note:**

> foxhunt vaguely happens in the background. Crowley intentionally spooks a horse to throw a rider who's a jerk. That's the worst thing that happens to an animal here.

Crowley was surrounded by a pack of hounds in full cry 

“Owoowooowooo, yes, you found me!” He patted one of the foxhounds so its tail started wildly wagging. Then they were all climbing over him for similar attention. 

“You again!?!” He could barely hear the huntsman over the hounds. 

“Your hounds seem to think anything with red hair is a fox!” 

The rest of the hunt came crashing over a hedge, half of them ending up unhorsed as their horses realized Crowley was there and shied. This was the third time they’d come up on him and the eligible young lady he was escorting. 

The lord hosting the hunt managed to stay seated, but only just, his horse rapidly backing up under him and scraping him along the hedge. 

“Damndest luck! A beautiful day and the hounds have caught nothing but you again, Lord Crowley!” 

“Damned indeed” he mumbled too quietly to be heard over the bawling hounds. He shouted to be heard “I told you not to hunt on a Sunday!” 

“Nonsense! Pure superstition!” 

Crowley looked over the top of his glasses at the lord’s horse. He smiled at it, letting it see points of fangs. It exploded into wild bucking and Lord Fane fell squarely in a mud puddle. The hounds descended on him to give him a good licking, but he was not in the mood to be slobbered on. There were several loud curses as he got up and stormed after his runaway horse. The huntsman called for the hounds again and Crowley made a little “shoo” motion at the pack and they went roaring off again. 

He looked down at his trousers, which were covered in pawprints. He’d miracle them properly clean later, when there weren’t people watching. He turned back to Celia, who’d kept well away from the muddy hounds. 

“What keeps drawing them back, I wonder?” she said. 

“Stinking hellebores are in bloom. The scent is quite disorienting.” And a little demonic intervention, but that wasn’t something to mention in polite company. 

“You seem to have quite the way with animals.” 

“They know a beast when they see one.” Crowley gave her a properly rakish grin. 

“I think that applies more to Lord Fane. What a beastly pastime!” 

“I couldn’t agree more. So is he off your list of suitors then?” 

“Are you looking to get on it?” She gave him an all-too sharp look. 

“Ah…” He was always terrible at this part. 

“Have your heart set on someone else?” 

“Course not! Wild, carefree bachelor, me.” 

“You are anxious, careful, and well looked after by _someone_.” 

“See here...” 

“I _do_. Now then, if you can keep me company for the week so Lord Fane keeps his hands to himself, I can introduce you to whoever it is you’re _actually_ seeking so you can get home sooner.” She offered him her arm, making it clear who was in charge. 

“You have a deal. Lord Fane is in for a run of terrible luck…” 

**Author's Note:**

> when stinking hellebore is crushed, the leaves have a rank odor described as like wet dog or old beef. gross.


End file.
